


Live Once More (This Time Will Be Better)

by purpleeyesandbowties



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Time Travel AU, about two boys who get another whack at what was a very traumatizing college experience, and saying this time we won't fuck it up, just some fluff, there's no Deep backstory to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleeyesandbowties/pseuds/purpleeyesandbowties
Summary: Very carefully so as to not wake his roommates presumably sleeping off a night of regrettable choices, Andrew pulled a notebook towards him and opened to a fresh page to make a list. Two lists, actually. Changes to make and things to keep the same. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to sort out what was important.To change:get off pillsno Kathyno Seth dying (Neil was upset)no Thanksgivingno winter at Evermoreno Baltimorekill Riko soonerkill Nathan myselfKeep the same:get Neil to the Foxes





	Live Once More (This Time Will Be Better)

It took Andrew roughly two minutes to accept the fact that he had somehow ended up in his own past. After all, how else could he explain the dorm room celling he was currently staring up at, every crack and water stain matching the ones in his memory perfectly? And the unmistakable sound of Nicky snoring from the other side of the room? And his phone, tucked next to the knives under his pillow (he hadn’t needed knives under his pillow for years) whose screen clearly read April 1, 2004. The date was ironic, granted, but no one could have pulled this caliber of prank on him. No way. So Andrew Minyard-Josten, age 32, woke up in the body of Andrew Minyard, age 18, in the middle of his freshman year of college. He accepted this at face value, shoved the blankets off his body, and went to get some coffee. After coffee and a quick shower, Andrew pulled some clothes on (tighter than he’d been wearing lately—his body had finally started to betray his sweet tooth in his old age, and he’d been dressing to hide it). He sat down at his desk to figure out what he was going to do. How it happened wasn’t as important to him; he couldn't change it happening. What he could do was take advantage of the time he’d been given a second time. His gaze landed on the bottle of prescription pills on the corner of his desk and decided that would be the first thing to go. Never again, he’d told himself. No more pills or drugs. Nothing stronger than the occasional aspirin for the past dozen years. Just because he was back in a body still addicted to those fucking pills didn’t mean he would have to break that streak.

Very carefully so as to not wake his roommates presumably sleeping off a night of regrettable choices, Andrew pulled a notebook towards him and opened to a fresh page to make a list. Two lists, actually. Changes to make and things to keep the same. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to sort out what was important.

To change:

  * get off pills
  * no Kathy 
  * no Seth dying (Neil was upset)
  * no Thanksgiving
  * no winter at Evermore
  * no Baltimore
  * kill Riko sooner
  * kill Nathan myself



 

Keep the same:

  * get Neil to the Foxes



 

As far as Andrew was concerned, anything else could go fuck itself. This was what mattered. Without thinking, Andrew touched his left hand. The ring that had been there for close to ten years was gone. It didn’t exist yet, probably. That was annoying. Without it, he had no physical link to Neil.

Neil. He was gone—well, not gone. In Millport. They would meet soon if things happened the right way. Just a few months. That’s all he would have to wait. Of course, Neil wouldn’t know him, but that didn’t matter. As long as he could get Neil to Palmetto again, it would work out. He remembered what needed to be said, what deals had to be made. He could meet Neil again without the haze of drugs between them.

But.

If he really made the changes he was planning on, maybe it wouldn't matter. Maybe this Neil wouldn't care about him at all. Maybe he’d scare him off or Neil would loathe him, or ignore him, or leave. 

Distantly, Andrew noticed his palms stinging and forced his fingers to relax, uncurling his fists from where his fingernails had been digging into his skin. Even if Neil never gave him a second glance, stopping Riko from hurting him, getting rid of the threats before they appeared—that was what was important. He could live with whatever else happened.

—

If college was boring the first time, it was even worse the second. Andrew hardly had to stay awake for his classes. Though he’d told himself he wouldn't make stupid changes to make sure he didn’t mess everything else up, he did add another major to his course load, just so he could learn something new. Practice was unbearable without Neil to play against. Kevin was his same tedious, loud self, yelling the same phrases and pushing the same drills as last time. Andrew, for his part, found most of his time occupied by weaning himself off his meds. It was a slow, painful process, but he’d been through it before in a much worse environment. He knew how to act, how to plaster a manic smile on his face and lay the right intonation on his words to seem like he was still higher than a kite. It was enough to pass. Coach watched him a little warily but didn’t interfere. As long as he didn’t hurt anyone else or risk getting caught, he knew Wymack would let his sobriety slide. 

Andrew was a better actor than he thought he was, apparently, because none of his roommates or teammates caught on. He would pop the pills and hold them in his cheek or under his tongue until he could sneak away under the guise of needing to take a piss or grab a cigarette or just stalk away for no reason, and dispose of the pill there. On Fridays when they went to Sweeties, he managed to fake the symptoms of withdrawal well enough. It was perhaps the weakest element of his scheme, but the others didn’t look close enough at his side-of-the-road retching to see that nothing was there. So Andrew lived the last two months of freshman year even more miserable than the first time, impatient and irritated and—annoyingly—lonely. It was a relief when Wymack approached him, asking if he’d like to come with to recruit a new striker.

“He’s in some dinky town in Arizona. A little sloppy, but the kid has got drive. He plays like he’ll die if he doesn’t. But there’s next to no information about him. His coach has never met or even seen his parents, and he’s apparently skittish. Could have a runner on our hands.”

Andrew let his mouth quirk up, doing his best to keep his eyes cold. “Might be interesting.”

Coach nodded, obviously relieved to have someone to keep an eye on Kevin, and booked another ticket.

Andrew shuddered to himself, remembering the turbulence of the plane to Millport last time.

“You better appreciate this, you little shit,” he muttered. “If you’re not there this time, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

—

The first thing Andrew thought when he saw Neil was that he looked young. He looked scared. His hair was dyed that godawful black and his eyes were jarringly brown, but his face was smooth and free of scars. Something inside Andrew clenched painfully but he raised his racquet anyway. He’d fought with himself over the course of those lonely two months, whether or not he’d have to hit Neil again, but he ultimately decided he should. If he hadn’t have stopped Neil the first time, he would have run. He wouldn’t have made it to Palmetto, to his family.

Neil’s conversation with Wymack went the same as last time. He was skittish, eyes darting back and forth between Wymack and the door to the locker room, where Andrew was waiting just out of sight. Andrew readied himself as Neil tensed up, ready to bolt, and took a deep breath. Neil turned and ran towards the locker room at full speed. Andrew tracked him quickly, lifting his racquet, poised to swing. And then, at the last possible second, he dropped the racquet.

Because this time, Neil’s arms were crossed over his stomach. He should have no idea what was coming. He couldn’t even see Andrew yet. But his arms were held protectively over his midsection, bracing for a blow.

Neil came face to face with Andrew and stopped short, obviously stunned, when no such blow was forthcoming.

“1873%” Andrew blurted, staring hard at Neil for any sign of recognition.

—

Last week—12 years in the future—Andrew had woken up to a cat breathing fishy breath in his face. He pushed Lady Fancypants VanSnugleton off his neck and sat up. He glared at Neil who was simultaneously fighting a smile and trying to look innocent.

“What did I say about letting her in here.”

“I know, I know, not until she learns personal space. But she sounded so pitiful. She was scratching at the door all night, whining and crying. I had to let her in.”

Neil flashed a pitiful look at him. “Besides, I was planning on holding her the whole time so she wouldn’t bother you. But she’s a slippery little bastard.”

Andrew considered his husband and their new, very loud, clingy kitten with narrowed eyes.

“1871%” he said finally. Somehow, Neil’s pout grew more pronounced. 

“I can’t believe you’re still keeping track of that,” he complained.

Andrew shrugged. “If you don't like it you can leave. Take the cats with you when you go.”

Neil smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He reached out, tangling his fingers in Andrew’s hair and scooting closer for a lingering kiss.

“You’d miss us too much.”

“I’d miss the cats,” Andrew said, deadpan, secretly revealing in the warmth spreading through him at Neil’s stupid grin. He couldn’t help adding, “1872%”

—

Back in the present—the past—Neil blinked once, twice.

Incredulously, he said, “Andrew?”

“What, dumbass?”

“You—” he cut himself off, touching his smooth cheek, right where the burn marks had been, or would have been, and would never be again. “You remember?”

“As if I could forget your ugly mug, junkie.”

Neil snorted a laugh, loud and brash and _so_ familiar, and Andrew couldn’t help his answering smile. It wasn't anything like the smile he had been faking to cover for the meds he wasn’t taking, but something small and soft, all for Neil.

Neil surged forward. From behind him, Kevin made a strangled noise, possibly of warning or maybe just panic, but Andrew opened his arms readily for Neil. They held each other tightly for a few seconds before separating quickly. Andrew’s arms ached to hold him longer, to slot their hands together like they had thousands of times before. 

“What the hell is going on?” Coach Wymack asked.

“We’re leaving,” Andrew said shortly. He jerked his head at the locker room. Neil, hearing his unspoken question, said, “I’ll get my bag from the locker room and we can head out.”

“Minyard, he hasn’t even signed the contract! We don't have a ticket for him. Where the hell do you think you’re taking him?”

“To Palmetto,” Andrew said, the ‘obviously’ implied in his voice.

“I’ll sign,” Neil said quickly. “And I have money, I can pay for my own ticket.”

Wymack looked between Andrew and Neil several times, once back to Kevin, and shook his head. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Just when I think I understand that boy…”

—

Neil and Andrew spent the flight back to Palmetto sitting as close to each other as they could get in the small plane seats. Neil wasted no time in capturing Andrew’s hand and linking their fingers together. Andrew gave a small sigh of relief, really without meaning to, but Neil answered with his own sigh.

“I was worried,” Neil admitted. “I thought I was alone.”

Andrew shook his head. “I don’t know what—who—or how we were sent back, but whatever did it, they would never be able to keep me from you.”

Neil leaned in to give Andrew a kiss, pausing that half-second to wait for permission, years of habit carrying over to now. Andrew shook his head and Neil leaned back without complaint.

“Later. The others are already suspicious,” Andrew murmured. Neil nodded in understanding. He pulled their joined hands down, hidden by the armrest between them. 

—

The second they got back to Fox Tower, Andrew headed for the roof. His first instinct was to help Neil with unpacking, but that would be out of character for the current iteration of Andrew, at least in the eyes of their teammates. So he just sent Neil a glance that spoke volumes and walked toward the fire exit.

He sat on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling, a cigarette burning down in his fingers. Around their 25th, Neil kicked his habit—and took Andrew down with him. But this body still craved nicotine, and he could only handle fending off one craving at a time. So. Cigarettes. At least he didn’t have that hacking cough anymore. 

Neil joined him sometime later, sitting down and pressing his leg into Andrew’s. He stole Andrew’s cigarette and took a quick drag.

“What happened to your lung health kick?” Andrew asked dryly.

“I have time,” Neil said mildly.

Andrew sighed out a cloud of smoke. “Yeah. We have time.”

They passed off the cigarette until it was gone, and Neil lit up another one without having to ask.

“We’ll do better this time,” he said abruptly. “I don’t know why we’re here. Or how. But I know this time, we won’t have to hurt so badly.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, simply hooking his foot around Neil’s ankle.

“We won’t hurt at all,” Neil said. “This time, we can just be young. No more scars, no more secrets, no huge burdens. No torture.”

Andrew snorted. “The bar is on the ground, Neil.”

Neil shoved his shoulder. “Fine. This time, I’ll graduate a year early so we can sign together. We’ll win every championship, not just freshman year. We’ll kill Riko before he can pull any of his bullshit. We’ll get drunk and dance all night without having to worry.”

“Now you’re making sense,” Andrew said. He leaned into Neil a little harder, letting himself indulge. 

“We’ll keep in touch with Bee and Wymack. We’ll make Kevin break the news sooner. We’ll use your mob money to bring Erik here for Nicky.”

“We’ll get more cats. A bigger apartment.”

“We’ll get married again,” Andrew said. He felt Neil breathing next to him and knew he was doing something dumb like starting to get emotional. He turned his head and brushed his lips over Neil’s ear.

“I’d marry you again,” Neil said. “I’d marry you every day if we could.”

“I know, Josten,” Andrew said. Neil turned towards him and took Andrew’s face in his hands. 

“I was ready to do this alone. If you didn’t know me.”

“Me too.”

“But we’re not alone. Maybe that’s the whole point of this—this time we’re not alone. We can do better. We can do it together.”

Andrew slotted their lips together—familiar and new, all at once. That was an answer, in and of itself. And they didn’t have to say anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sidras-tak on tumblr and this was supposed to be a 150k epic but we all know that's never gonna happen, so please take this instead. also please come talk to me.


End file.
